At last—I told a story. The quiet encounter and home-coming Ann Veronica and she had contemplated was entirely disorganized by this misadventure; there were no adequate explanations, and after they had settled things at Ann Veronica’s lodgings, they reached home in the early afternoon estranged and depressed, with headaches and the trumpet voice of the indomitable Kitty Brett still ringing in their ears. This charming episode was repeated three times. It was you who were so much amazed that I did not try—the music hall stage here. There were always parrots and parrakeets screaming in the fruit groves. I think that you might break Martin’s heart if you don’t. I was rude and stupid. When the turnkey, next morning, stepp'd into his room, The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb; The sheriff's black bracelets lay strewn on the ground, But the lad that had worn 'em could nowhere be found. You foolish girl!” Ann Veronica took that in silence.
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